


Need You Now

by chyeloh (plerpson)



Category: Big Bang (Band), Kpop - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Sexuality Crisis, Vivid nightmares, also, big bang is a big cuddly family and everyone loves their leader, but jiyong loves him, no one dies, orange juice is involved, references to poisioning, seunghyun is an insensitive ass, sort of, yunho makes a very brief cameo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 06:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1807963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plerpson/pseuds/chyeloh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing about it makes sense... Jiyong can't stop them from coming, the images that flash behind closed eyelids, pictures painted in his mind that leave him screaming, backed up against the headboard, chest heaving in panic. It's always the same dream, over and over...and Seunghyun is the only one who can keep those thoughts away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing about it makes sense.
> 
>  _You're pathetic_ , he thinks to himself, huddled under the covers and trying to resist the alluring pull of sleep. He knows what awaits him behind closed eyelids, and as tempting as laying down and closing his eyes sounds, GD knows that it will only end badly.
> 
> It's been the same dream keeping him up for nights now, and he can feel his body wearing down from extreme exhaustion.
> 
> But he's more willing to suffer than to admit that having Seunghyun home, sleeping here with him, might solve his problems.
> 
> He doesn't want to examine that too closely.

**Trigger warning for blood.**

 

* * *

 

Nothing about it makes sense.

 

He'd only been watching TV, half-dozing off as yet another idol show flashed onto the screen. Jiyong didn't watch for entertainment; he watched to let his mind drift. With all their busy schedules, and composing, and appearances, and photo-shoots, and dance practices, and concerts, and fan-meets, and filming...it's nice every once in a while to just not think, to enjoy this rare break they're getting.

 

He watches through half-lidded eyes as TVXQ's Yunho takes the stage, being greeted in turn by the hosts.

 

He listens as the other idol begins his story, opening up for the first time about that incident that seems like forever ago, talking about the orange juice, his hospitalization, the trauma that came after...

 

And a picture flashes up on the screen--it's blurry, and it has to be something a fan took, given the shitty, cell phone-like quality--of Yunho, looking panicked and deathly ill, being supported by the management staff, and Jiyong doesn't understand the way his throat suddenly constricts in terror, terror that has him scrambling up from his half-sleep on the couch and turning off the television, fingers shaking over the remote control buttons.  

 

In the brief moment that picture had taken the screen, it wasn't Yunho being held up, surrounded by worried coworkers. In that brief moment, the face on TV had been Seunghyun's.

 

As soon as he realizes himself, Jiyong laughs. It must be the long hours or late nights getting to him; of course it wasn't T.O.P. in the picture--if something had happened, Jiyong would've been the first to know, right after the YG execs--so maybe he's more exhausted than he thought. Chuckling self-depreciatingly, he manages to pull himself up from the couch and heads towards his room, intent on getting the sleep he apparently needs desperately.

 

He ignores the whisper of panic still swirling in his ribs. 

 

* * *

 

The first time it happens, he nearly gives Youngbae a heart attack. Daesung and the maknae are out for the night--some club, or bar, Jiyong doesn't care; they're adults--and Jiyong shuffles off to bed early, feeling inordinately tired.

 

"Goodnight, Kwon-leader," Youngbae distractedly calls after him, eyes glued to the TV screen, and Jiyong responds with a noncommittal grunt. He prepares for bed rather quickly, his mattress calling to him too appealingly for him to delay, and within seconds of his body hitting the bed, he's out like a light.

 

His first few hours of sleep are relatively peaceful, his brain foregoing dreams in favor of getting the recuperation it needs.

 

But then, sometime around 3 a.m., Jiyong's dormant thoughts decide to resurface, and though he feels the impending terror of a nightmare thumping in his chest, he is in too deep a sleep to pull out of the dream.

 

It's some concert, a nameless stage Jiyong's never seen before, with thousands of screaming fans. They're all together--a rarity, lately--and Jiyong looks over to catch a glimpse of the radiant smile on Seunghyun's face. He studiously ignores the way his stomach flips excitedly. Seunghyun always manages to pull this reaction out of him, even in his dreams, and Jiyong's not sure if he likes it.

 

Seunhyun's shouting something over the din, their microphones turned off now that the concert has ended, and Jiyong turns from the sea of adoring fans to face him again.

 

Except that the scene is no longer what he thought it was.

 

The lights are too bright, the crowd is deafening, and there is blood pouring out of Seunhyun's mouth as his eyes roll back into his head, only the whites reflecting in the harsh lighting. He's gurgling, struggling for breath, and Jiyong can't tear his gaze away from Seunghyun's convulsing chest, his feet horrifyingly stuck to the ground.

 

Seunghyun collapses, body twitching and blood still gushing endlessly from his mouth as his movements become slower and weaker...Seunghyun goes still, eyes white and glazed over, mouth open and sanguine, ribcage caving in. 

 

Jiyong is screaming.

 

* * *

 

He starts awake violently, lashing out, kicking off pillows, blankets, he doesn't care, he just needs to  _get away_. It takes him a moment after waking to realize that he is still screaming, and when he is forced to stop for breath, the cry dies off into a choked, anguished sob. His entire body feels too tight, too wrong, and his limbs tremble against the sheets, thick, ugly tears sliding down his cheeks as he sniffles and struggles to regain his equilibrium.

 

It's only when his frame-wracking sobs begin to dissipate that he registers the strong arms wrapped around him, the firm torso pressed against his back, and Youngbae's voice, scared but calm, in his ear, telling him to "Breathe, hyung, you're safe. You're okay, you're alright, we're alright, just breathe..." 

 

He takes a number of long, shuddery breaths, and when he decides that he's no longer in danger of unravelling from the twitchiness haunting his bones, or the images haunting the backs of his eyes, he gently pushes at the arms around his middle, signaling the vocalist that it's time to back off.

 

Youngbae reluctantly obeys, shifting to sit in front of Jiyong, his gaze worried and frightened. "Hyung, what happened?" He asks in a small voice, as if afraid that speaking too loud might cause Jiyong's fragile body to come apart at the seams, "Why...why were you screaming like that?"

 

A stab of guilt flashes through Jiyong, and he has to swallow a few times, wincing at the splintered soreness in his throat, before he can rasp, "I...don't worry about it, Bae-yah. Just a nightmare. I'll be alright. Really," he adds, catching the dubious look on Youngbae's face. The singer hesitates a moment, then nods slowly, rising and heading for the door. Jiyong's grateful that Youngbae doesn't ask what his dream was about, because the leader's not sure if he's really in a place to be able to explain himself.

 

"Goodnight, hyung," Youngbae murmurs at the threshold, flashing one last look of concern in Jiyong's direction before closing the door behind him, leaving Jiyong alone with his thoughts and the aftertaste of blood.

 

Jiyong really doesn't know what the worst part of the situation is.

 

* * *

 

Three days later, he decides that the worst part is the dream's stubborn recurrence, and how he's becoming accustomed to waking up shrieking his lungs out, in the presence of three very worried faces.  

 

Nothing about it makes sense.

 

  
_You're pathetic,_  he thinks to himself once the others have finally left. They've been more and more insistent lately, and it's getting harder to come up with excuses for the way his nights inevitably end in tears. 

 

He blinks tiredly, huddled under the covers and trying to resist the alluring pull of sleep. He knows what awaits him behind closed eyelids, and as tempting as laying down and closing his eyes sounds, Jiyong knows that it will only end badly.

 

He's tired, he can't deny; it's been the same dream keeping him up for nights now, and he can feel his body wearing down from extreme exhaustion. But every time he closes his eyes, Seunhyun is there, blood streaming down his face and choking, and Jiyong is helpless, frozen to the spot as he screams and scream and screams, unable to tear his eyes away.

 

He nearly calls Seunghyun right then, just to hear him speak, just to let that deep-- _delightfully deep_ \--voice wash over him, crowding out Jiyong's terror with the warmth his hyung inexplicably fills him with. He nearly calls Seunghyun and asks him, begs him, to just come home, stop whatever it is he's doing and just come back, and hold Jiyong and make him believe that it's all okay.

 

But he is Kwon Jiyong, not some blubbering damsel in distress; he is a man, and more than capable of exorcising his demons on his own.  _It would be better with him here, though_ , some-- _small!_  it's a small--part of his brain murmurs,  _don't lie to yourself, you want him._  


 

He doesn't. Jiyong,  _G-Dragon_ , is totally straight. More than straight. So straight that the ends of his straightness connect, forming a perfect circle. Kwon Jiyong is beyond straight.

 

And so is Seunghyun, Jiyong sternly reminds that  _small_  part of his mind. He knows T.O.P. is a ladies' man, has  _seen_  him leaving bars with women, kissing women, bringing women home. Seunghyun is  _heterosexual_ , and even if-- _if_ \--Jiyong wanted him, he couldn't have him.

 

It would ruin their friendship, BIGBANG, their careers...it would ruin everything.

 

And Jiyong needs him here, curled up near him and whispering calming words.

 

But he's more willing to suffer than to admit that having Seunghyun home, sleeping here with him, might solve his problems.

 

He's not examining that too closely.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time a week rolls around, the four of them have this little nightly ritual almost down to a science.

 

Jiyong startles into consciousness already wailing, thick tears blurring his vision. When he's finally calmed down enough--Youngbae's strong presence at his back and Daesung's soft voice rumbling soothingly, while Seungri just stands in the doorframe and tries very hard to keep his eyes open, body listing dangerously to the right--he mutters an apology, another habit that he's coming to hate. Apologizing, always apologizing.

 

"Hyung," Seungri finally speaks up, looking to the others for confirmation and shifting on his feet, "This...this can't keep going on. You're barely getting an hour of sleep in at night; we can see you're exhausted." The maknae gulps, and Jiyong feels a vague niggling of panic for whatever it is he's about to hear, "We called Seunghyun-hyung. He's coming home."

 

It takes a while to soak in, but then Jiyong's squeaking out an incredulous, "Y-You  _what?"_  "We thought he might be able to help," Youngbae rumbles, and Jiyong wiggles out of his traitorous arms, glaring as best he can in his sleep-deprived state, "He is your best friend, so we thought he might...know how to make this stop?" It sounds just as unsure as Jiyong feels, and the leader just buries his head in his hands and groans. _Awesome._  


 

Part of his brain is whooping in victory. Jiyong tells it to shut up.

 

* * *

 

As it turns out, Jiyong's not even awake when Seunghyun finally arrives. He collapses just  hours before, moving through the kitchen on his way to the fridge, hoping to grab a snack to boost his dangerously dropping blood-sugar, when the world goes black, and he drops heavily to the ground, totally limp. 

 

Seungri finds him, unresponsive on the floor, blood oozing sluggishly from a gash on his forehead from where his skull had collided with the countertop on the way down. The other three load him into the car and drive him to the hospital--where he wakes very briefly--to receive stitches for his injury, while the resident doctor tells the other members what they already know: Jiyong is suffering from extreme exhaustion and should be kept in bed for the next few days. He gives them a prescription for sedatives (just in case) and painkillers, for Jiyong's spectacular concussion.

 

Anxious and scared, they take their comatose leader home and tuck him into his bed, Jiyong blissfully unaware of everything happening around him.

 

* * *

 

Seunhyun charges into the dorm like a bull, breathless and demanding to know where the leader is. Of course he's heard what happened while he was on his way home; Daesung had texted him that they were taking Jiyong to the hospital, and Seunghyun had nearly passed out, himself. He's directed to Jiyong's room by three exhausted-looking singers, and Seunghyun wastes little time shucking off his shoes and padding into the room.

 

Jiyong is curled up on his side, his hair sticking up and revealing the bandage covering his newest injury. His hand is fisted in the sheets and he's twitching, eyebrows pulled together in a frown as he whimpers. Seunghyun sighs sadly, reaching out to brush his thumb across the angle of Jiyong's cheekbones. Youngbae had explained the whole situation to him when he'd called Seunghyun at 3 a.m. yesterday, sounding more exhausted than the elder felt, begging him to come home. Truth be told, Seunghyun has no idea whether or not he can even help, but it's nice to be home, to hug his bandmates--his brothers--again, to take in the relative softness of Jiyong's features as the leader sleeps on. He could spend hours memorizing the face of the person he's come to love.

 

Not that he thinks the younger would ever reciprocate his feelings. Seunghyun, upon feeling the first buds of attraction starting to bloom in his chest, had been quick to shut down his emotions, however persistent they were. Jiyong is  _straight_ , as in  _not interested,_  and no matter how badly Seunghyun wants him, he'd never sacrifice his friendship or Jiyong's happiness just because of a one-sided crush. 

 

So Seunghyun drowns his sorrows in songwriting, and booze, and women, and tries very studiously to  _not think about Jiyong_. This last trip away from the dorm had, in some ways, been a blessing, because then at least Seunghyun didn't have to be around the mouthy rapper who makes his insides flutter every time he smiled. 

 

But now he's here, at his beloved leader's bedside, and Jiyong is whimpering again, and a few tears squeeze out of his tightly-shut eyes. Seunghyun instantly reaches up to wipe the moisture away, his heart clenching painfully when Jiyong cringes away from the touch, making a hurt, scared noise. 

 

"Hey, hey, it's just me," Seunghyun whispers, leaning closer, though he's not sure the younger can even hear him through whatever horror he's trapped in, "Seunghyun. It's just me, Ji, calm down." 

 

Surprisingly, this seems to have the desired effect, and the furrow in Jiyong's brow seems to lessen a little, his breath slowing ever-so-slightly. "Good, Ji. You're okay." Seunghyun's honestly not sure why he's still talking at this point, but maybe he's hoping the sound of his voice will lull the younger rapper into sweeter dreams. And wow,  _Choi Seunghyun, you are such a fucking sap. What the actual fuck._  


 

"H..y...'nnng," Jiyong breathes, and Seunghyun has to double-check that yes, the leader is still very much asleep. The elder allows himself to rejoice a little at the fact that Jiyong recognizes his voice even in slumber--and gives himself a harsh mental pinch to  _not get his hopes up_ \--and smiles, aware that the other can't see it. "Yeah, Ji, it's me," he murmurs, bringing up a hand to softly brush Jiyong's wild hair, careful not to disturb the bandage there, "I'm right here, you're safe."

 

Jiyong seems to let out a little sigh of contentment at this--and again, Seunghyun is  _not_  reading into any of this--and his body relaxes, expression softening. A few more minutes of the leader not showing any further signs of distress, and Seunghyun figures his job here is done. He briefly debates leaving, but decides against it. Instead, he slides into Jiyong's bed, pressing against the other's back because there is not much room on the small mattress. 

 

Because what if Jiyong has another nightmare? Seunghyun doesn't want to be too far if that happens, wants to be within arm's reach so he can comfort Jiyong and make sure he gets the sleep he needs.

 

(It's totally not for selfish reasons. He doesn't enjoy the way Jiyong's frame folds perfectly against his. Or how intoxicating the scent of pure _Jiyong_  is. Or the younger's sold warmth pressed up against him, chest rising and falling against his with each soft exhalation. Or...yeah.)

 

* * *

 

Jiyong's eyes finally blink open weirdly late in the day--Well, late considering how early he'd been getting up in the past week. It has to be at least 7 a.m.--and he's instantly hit full-force by a skull-splitting pain in his head. If it weren't for the agony spiking through his forehead, he might say that he felt pretty good... _rested_ , even. But for now he settles for groaning in complaint, wishing he could just slip back into the blissful, warm embrace of sleep he'd just emerged from. 

 

"Ji?"  The voice is hoarse and thoroughly muddled by sleep, but unmistakeable all the same, and Jiyong suddenly can't breathe, headache forgotten in his panic. Last night had been a wonderful reprieve from his usual tormented dreams, but Jiyong is going to cry if "last night" turns out to just be a dream within a dream; he doesn't want to turn around just to see Seunghyun die in front of him, not again, he can't take anymore.

 

Jiyong whimpers at the prospect, trying his best to curl away from the dream-Seunghyun, who only pulls him closer. "Ji, what's wrong?" And that voice, that  _fucking voice_. Jiyong's head is throbbing again. This is too much, he can't do this, not now, not ever.

 

He doesn't even realize he's crying until he feels Seunghyun shifting to loom over him, and there's a gentle brush against his cheek. 

 

Jiyong's eyes snap open at that. Dream-Seunghyun's never touched him, never been able to, so could it be that Seunghyun is actually...? He doesn't have the best recall right now, given that his head is still reeling from its unexpected meeting with the kitchen counter, but he feels like he remembers Seungri telling him that Seunghyun would be coming home. So this could...Seunghyun might really be...

 

"You're here," his voice is hoarse and strained, and the sound of it surprises him, but if it has the same effect on Seunghyun, the elder doesn't show it. Instead, his face breaks into a warm, albeit concerned, smile, and murmurs, "Yeah, I am." Silence falls between the two of them until Jiyong, suddenly all-too-aware of the intimacy in their current position, awkwardly clears his throat. "So, um," he flounders for words, unsure how to approach the situation, "can you, um, maybe get off of me? I'd like to take a shower..."

 

Seunghyun seems to read his mind, and suddenly realizes himself, nodding a bit too vigorously and instantly backing off, leaving Jiyong free to swing his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up.

 

And  _wow, that was a mistake_. Jiyong's head spins violently, and his stomach churns in the most unpleasant way. "Ji?" He hears Seunghyun ask, worried, but he's too busy trying to fight down his swirling insides to answer. "I-I think I'm gonna--" is all he manages to get out, the back of his hand pressed against his lips in a futile attempt to keep his stomach inside his body, before two strong arms are hooking under his shoulders and hoisting him up rather roughly, and the room pitches dramatically and Jiyong groans, and now he's definitely going to puke, and he can barely find it in him to be grateful when he's deposited on a cold bathroom floor in front of the toilet, right before he vomits into the porcelain bowl.

 

Seunghyun stays with him the whole time, rubbing his back, and mumbling soothing things, while Jiyong's entire body trembles and shudders, each heave less and less productive until he's retching little more than bile. Soon enough, nothing comes up, and Jiyong spends a few more minutes dry heaving until his body decides he's done, and he slumps back into the firm torso behind him, his stomach cramped up and aching. It feels like the worst hangover of his life.

 

There's sick on his face--he can feel it--but Seunghyun takes care of everything, which Jiyong is immensely grateful for, given that he's not sure he could move any of his limbs even if he tried. He allows Seunghyun to clean up around him, his solid presence never leaving Jiyong's back, before he finds himself being gently cradled to Seunghyun's chest, bridal style.

 

Were he a bit more coherent and in control of his body, Jiyong is certain he'd object; he's not a  _girl,_  he can walk to his bed on his own, by himself. He knows that in reality he can't, but the worst is that little part of his brain that whispers,  _But you like it when he does this for you_. He pushes that voice down and decides that for the moment, he's just going to enjoy the cozy  _safety_  he feels, carried in Seunghyun's arms, and before he really registers it, he's snuggled his head into Seunghyun's chest, and his eyes drift shut at the steady heartbeat he next to his ear.

 

The walk from the bathroom to the bed is an extremely short one, but Jiyong manages to fall asleep anyway, exhausted in body and mind.

 

Jiyong misses the way Seunghyun's face lights up when the younger nuzzles closer.


	3. Chapter 3

 

It's afternoon when he next regains consciousness, and his headache has faded dramatically. There's a foul taste in his mouth, but overall he feels much better. "Ji?" There's a rumbling underneath his ear, and Jiyong realizes belatedly--and  _embarrassingly_ , as his cheeks heat up in mortification--that his pillow is Seunghyun. Not that the elder seems to mind, given the look of sincere concern on his face once Jiyong musters the courage to meet his eyes.

 

"Hey," Seunghyun's gaze softens as soon as he sees that Jiyong is awake, and without thinking he brings up a hand to card through Jiyong's messy hair. "H-Hey," Jiyong croaks, flushing and trying his very best not to outright  _purr_  at the feeling of Seunghyun's hand moving against his scalp.

 

There's another lull in the conversation, but this time Jiyong resists the urge to run. Seunghyun is straight, so he shouldn't read into this. It's just...hyung-ly care and comfort. That's all. Seunghyun catches the crestfallen expression on his face before he even realizes he's making it. 

 

"What's the matter, Ji? You look upset."

 

"It's nothing," the younger lies, but the arch of Seunghyun's eyebrow tells him that he's not going to get by that easily.

 

And suddenly, he's so fuckin' frustrated it's  _unreal_.

 

"What  _are_  we?" He demands, abruptly sitting up and batting Seunghyun's hand away.

 

The look of shock on the other's face would be comical if Jiyong weren't so inexplicably upset.

 

"What are...Jiyong, what? I don't understand; what are you trying to--"

 

"It's always like this!" Jiyong gestures desperately between the two of them, hoping Seunghyun will get it, "You do this all the time! You touch me, you pet my hair, you have more nicknames for me than  _anybody_  does, you hug me,  _you sleep my bed_ \--" Well, that's not something Seunghyun normally does, but Jiyong's on a roll now, "--you carry me places, you cuddle me, you text me non-stop, you sing to me, you, y-you!!!"

 

Jiyong's running out of steam now, and he flails for a little bit longer, mouth working with no sound, before he slumps. "I just...what is this? What are we? What...what am I to you?"

 

There's no response, and Jiyong's getting worked up again. "And I!" He laughs self-depreciatingly, the sound coming out much more harshly than he'd intended, "I  _let_  you! Fuck, I  _like_  it! I get lonely when you leave for too long, and I worry about you all the time, and I get jealous whenever you bring someone else home, and I have nightmares about you  _dying in my arms???"_

 

Jiyong's crying again, and he's not really sure why; he just feels so overwhelmed, and desperate, and he just needs to know if he's alone in this, if Seunghyun hates him now. Silence settles over them once more, punctuated only by Jiyong's gasping sniffles and the sound of sheets rustling as Seunghyun wordlessly sits up, and as the seconds tick by, the panic within him builds. Oh god, he's done it know. He's said it all, laid it all out, and now Seunghyun is going to think he's disgusting and weird and he's probably going to punch him, and this is the end, it's--

 

It takes a good five seconds for him to process the lips pressed firmly against his, and they're drawing back too soon for him to respond. " _God_ , Jiyong," he hears Seunghyun chuckle through the ringing in his ears, "you're such an idiot, sometimes." 

 

"Hey," he protests weakly, still not sure what this all means, because they've just moved into a whole new ballpark and Jiyong's not sure what to make of it yet, "I am not." 

 

"Yes, you are," Seunghyun retorts, grinning, forehead resting comfortably against Jiyongs, both of them mindful of the latter's bandage, "I've wanted you for so long, and here you are, asking me what you mean to me...you are the densest person on the planet."

 

"Well, it's not like you initiated anything either," Jiyong mutters defensively, eyes drifting shut as Seunghyun leans in again, "how the fuck was I supposed to know?" The last words are mumbles against Seunghyun's lips as the other steals another chaste kiss, pulling back and grinning like an ass.

 

"Well then, we're both idiots," he mused, pulling Jiyong down so that they're both horizontal, Seunghyun spooning the younger, "but you're  _my_ idiot." And Jiyong takes a few deep breaths because  _holy shit,_ this is actually happening. "Yeah," he murmurs breathlessly, and an electric charge shoots through his body, and he lunges up to capture Seunghyun's lips, the other laughing at his eagerness. 

 

"S-so," he pulls back, a little embarrassed at how the simple brush of Seunghyun's mouth against his has him stuttering, and the way that Seunghyun's easy grin has him quivering like a teenage girl, "are we...I mean, what? Am I...?"

 

Seunghyun laughs, eyes crinkling in a way that does  _not_  steal Jiyong's breath. "Yah, what is it with you?" Seunghyun smiles, and after a moment of contemplation, thumb brushing against Jiyong's jaw, he says, "I guess you're my boyfriend. I mean, if you want." "Yeah," Jiyong nods so  excitedly it's embarassing.

 

Seunghyun grins, and any lingering traces of the nightmare are chased away.

 

* * *

 

"Did you really have nightmares of me dying in your arms?" Seunghyun asks later, Jiyong curled easily into his chest, tracing lazy patterns on the elder's shirt. The younger stiffens, and Seunghyun wonders if maybe it's something he shouldn't talk about. "Yeah," Jiyong whispers, sounding young and scared. Seunghyun rubs his back consolingly; he knows Jiyong has woken up screaming too many nights for it to be fair, and his chest stings when he thinks of himself as the cause. But this is about Jiyong, fixing Jiyong's pain.

 

"Tell me about it," Seunghyun encourages, and feels Jiyong shudder. "It's dumb," Jiyong mumbles, before everything tumbles out in a mess of rushed speech he hope Seunghyun can understand, because he is  _not_  repeating himself. He tells him about the TV interview, and the picture, and images he was forced to relive every night, the way he cried and cried and cried and  _wished_  that Seunghyun was there to make it better. 

 

And when he's done, Seunghyun pulls him close and mumbles words of comfort into his hair, sweet promises they both know he can't hope to keep, things like, "I'm not going to leave again, don't worry." It's nice to hear the words, though.

 

* * *

 

They get up for dinner, Seunghyun laughing when Jiyong's purged stomach growls voraciously. Jiyong smacks him, telling him to shut up, and finds himself strangely pleased when Seunghyun shoves back.

 

He'd honestly had some reservations, had worried that this new development might change their relationship, the antagonistic, teasing friendship that Jiyong loved. Seunghyun seems go catch on to this, leans closer towards the end of the meal. "Don't get any ideas," he grins impishly, "I'm only treating you nicely because you're sick. Don't get used to it."

 

But Seunghyun's still a hopeless sap, who acts like an octopus in bed, his long limbs friggin'  _everywhere_ , draped over Jiyong and pulling him close. Jiyong doesn't mind the tender moments, as long as he still gets to kick Seunghyun's ass during the day.

 

Like he does when he ambles into the kitchen one morning and nearly chokes on his own tongue because Seunghyun is standing there, leaning comfortably against the counter, drinking orange juice from the bottle, an evil twinkling in his eye.

 

  
_Asshole_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So yeah that's it. I hope you liked it, I struggled a little with the ending...orz**


End file.
